His Worst Fear
by sdbubbles
Summary: He has his one fear, and he desperately hopes it will never be realised. Only it seems to be becoming a disastrous reality. Features near enough all the characters at some point, and a fair bit of Greg and Jac...joint story with cajaindiastracey.
1. Trembling

**A/N: This is a joint story with cajaindiastracey, and it's her first story, I believe. So please tell us what you think of it as well, because it is also my first joint story.**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p>Henrik Hanssen hesitated as he brought the scalpel down towards the skin of the patient lying on the table. He breathed deeply before bringing the knife closer still to the flesh, glancing around to make sure that everything and everyone was perfect and in place before attempting to continue. He was fighting his own hands by now, and he already knew the battle was lost when Sahira looked up at him with concern in her dark eyes. The scalpel was touching the skin of the patient when he felt Sahira's hand on his. "Your hands, Henrik," she said. "They're shaking."<p>

He slowly met her gaze with regret; she really was worried. She had no need to be. He was fine, and that would be what she got to hear. He knew that shaking hands were not the first indication that someone was perfectly alright, but he knew he would have to let her take over and it would give him time to consider his position. He handed her the scalpel and agreed to supervise her.

She held her silence about it until they were almost finished operating. It was then that she asked, "Why exactly are your hands trembling?"

"It's nothing, Miss Shah," he replied tonelessly. He did not want the fear to creep into his words so he forced his tone to remain completely flat, as though he felt nothing at all. There was no point in worrying about it right now anyway. His hands were just shaking. It could be anything from hunger to caffeine to just low blood pressure. "I am absolutely fine," he added, knowing in his heart it was a lie.

"You don't look it," she persisted relentlessly. It was clear in her face that she knew he had his ideas about what was wrong with him. He always did. That was the problem here: Sahira had known him so long that she knew when he was lying and when he was having thoughts to himself.

"There is nothing wrong with me!" he shouted, shocking her into silence, into a state of frozenness. "Just leave it alone and concentrate on completing this procedure!" Never mind Sahira, he had just stunned himself. He had shouted at Sahira. He never did that to her. She had always been the one who never took the brunt of his anger because he could never, ever, try and hurt her. So why did he just let loose at her for trying to make sure he was alright? It made no sense to him.

Sahira said nothing more about it, but the procedure was finished in a tense silence that even the anaesthetists and scrub nurses felt nervous in. When everyone else was scrubbed out and while Sahira was washing every inch of her arms up to her elbows, Hanssen was leaning forwards against a wall. He felt angry, but he would be damned if he could figure out why he felt like that. He felt like, if given the opportunity, he would smack someone to get rid of the inexplicable tension.

He suddenly strode over to the sinks and mimicked Sahira's movements, but his hands were still trembling. She waited until his hands were dry to speak again. "Henrik, what's wrong with you?" she sighed. She had watched his hands tremble under the running water, and she had watched as he fumbled ever so slightly, not much but enough that she noticed since he never fumbled when grabbing anything, with the paper towel. Something here was wrong.

There had been something off about him for a few weeks; the shortness of his usually elastic temper, and the level of noise emanating from his mouth when he lost it as he did in theatre just then. The fact that he had even stopped giving his little smirk when he knew he was right, and he forgot what he was saying halfway through a conversation. They were all very small things and they would, on their own, be insignificant. But they were all there.

She waited for him to flip out at her again, but he did no such thing. Instead, he glared at her for her concern, as if trying to make her quiver under his intimidating gaze. But he seemed to forget how long she'd known him for; that stare did not frighten her anymore. She knew he would never harm her, therefore there was nothing to be feared from the glare that scared the hell out of many other people.

He stalked out of the room, the door swinging behind him. He walked the corridors. He needed solitude, a place where nobody would bother him with their questions and their concern. Where nobody would find him. Where nobody could see just how much this worried him. He had, whether others saw it or not, changed subtly in the past weeks, even months. He found himself struggling for the right word, when he normally had the broadest vocabulary, particularly of sarcasm, of anybody he knew. He noticed he tripped a little more often than he used to. And, and this was what bothered him most, his temper had become pretty vile at times in the past few weeks. It had found a personality of its own, and he never really knew when it would snap. Or what the result would be. He had always been calm and collected, but he had just demonstrated to Sahira that that particular side to his temper was volatile. Sometimes it was there, sometimes there was no control.

It was in the safety of the busy AAU Ward where he found solitude, after wandering the hospital in his dark red scrubs. Solitude in a crowd. He found this concept a little ironic, but he also understood it perfectly: if everyone was busy keeping troublesome patients in their beds and worried families at peace, they would not give him a second glance. He received a few greetings of "Good afternoon, Mr. Hanssen," but, unlike Sahira, they did not spare a glance to take in the detail that Sahira constantly saw when she looked at him.

He was well aware that Sahira was not stupid enough to believe that he was perfectly fine. The truth was, he wasn't fine at all, and he was painfully conscious of this. So, it appeared, was Sahira. They were in this together now, because she would not let this go until she found out what was happening, and maybe, just maybe, he could not face it on his own.

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><p><strong>Hope it was alright!<strong>

**Please review and tell us what you think!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**


	2. Pushing

**A/N: Sorry for the wee wait! Both our laptops decided to have temper tantrums and not work, so it took ages, haha!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p>It had been a number of days since the incident in the theatre and it was half way through a gruelling two to two shift. The fact it was late didn't bother Sahira; in fact, she rather liked it. This way she wouldn't have to face the long hard night back at the house. It wasn't home to her anymore, and it never would be again. Not since she had told her husband that she wanted a divorce. He was just getting worse and there was nothing that she could have done. After all she couldn't help feeling a lack of love for the man, not after him repeatedly getting drunk and becoming violent and loud, to the point that he terrified his own children, that it was impossible to carry on with any kind of normal activities. She had made the right choice, and she must remember that.<p>

Despite all this she couldn't help feeling scared at the prospect of a life alone. Her wages were enough to support her, but not enough to feed two small children and pay for a house. She had nowhere to turn anymore; it was like she had been deserted by everyone when she needed them most.

The shift continued, but for some reason Sahira couldn't fully give her attention to the patients. The night was long and all she had done so far was treat… treat… treat. Even the young baby in bay four struck no emotions with her. Her mind was elsewhere… every time she looked around everything seemed to remind her of the last time she had been in theatre with Henrik. Something wasn't right and she knew it; the look in his eyes when she had expressed concern for his well being told her that something else was wrong, and it wasn't simply low blood pressure. She had known Henrik for years and at times he was the only one that was there for her. Years ago, for this very reason, she had begun to realise when things were wrong, when something was bothering him and when he needed help.

Before she knew what was happening, Sahira found her feet carrying her towards the office floor. Other than the occasional glance in her direction, no one particularly noticed her. She stopped short outside the door of the office to a noise that worried her. Without a moment's hesitation Sahira flung open the door and stalked into the plush office.

"Get out!" shouted the usually calm figure that was her boss, colleague and long term friend. All she could see was his guarded eyes daring her to come closer, and get what she was about to receive.

"Henrik…Henrik, what are you doing?" He was crouched over his own arm, his hands trembling, his eyes fearful of the trickles of blood from misplaced needle shafts.

"Sahira, I said get out!" he yelled at her suddenly. He lost his cool. Damn it, this was not good. As Sahira looked around the office, all she could see was papers among papers, testing kits among testing kits. "Sahira, get out, please! I am fine and I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do, Henrik; all I want to do is make sure you're alright. No matter what you say, it certainly doesn't look like it, does it now? I am not going anywhere until you tell me, firstly, what you're testing yourself for and, secondly, exactly what I can do to help. Because I am going to help you, Henrik whether you like it or not. Do you understand me?"

"Sahira, I don't want to tell you nor do you need to know. I will be able to continue my normal duties and so whatever my reasons for testing my own blood, it is none of your concern." He glared at her for her interference. In his heart, he knew she meant well, and she really was worried. This was just something he could not speak about. Not yet. Not while he still was unsure.

"I care about you, Henrik. Now, I don't know what you think but I've known you for a long time and, like I said, whether you like it or not, I am going to find out what is wrong with you and if you're alright." At that moment the blood testing kit that Henrik was holding seemingly slipped through his shaking hands and came smashing to the floor.

"You can go now, Miss Shah. I really don't need you here," he insisted. His hard stare wavered ever so slightly, and he could feel his resolve shaking as much as his hands were. If he didn't get rid of her, she would find a way in. She would see his deepest, most dreaded, fear.

He was making it difficult for her to see his feelings. He always had done that, but never so much as he did now. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them; they made it damn near impossible to get behind the shield he created for himself. "You can't even hold a blood kit. How can you operate or even Clarke a patient? Let me help you, please."

"I will be absolutely fine," he replied. He knew it was a lie, and so did she. She saw the frustration in his face, the dread in his posture. He was not a straight back as he usually was; he hunched just a little at the shoulders, as if he was ready to admit something he never had before: defeat.

"I care about you, Henrik," she whispered to him, leaning over the desk. "Even you should find it in your heart of stone to accept that." She put her hand on his, steadying it as she lifted it. She had underestimated just how badly it shook. He looked down when she met his eyes. He knew she would not let it go. It was futile to hope that she would.

Sahira couldn't help feeling pity for the man, and the fact that this affected her so much, and that she cared so greatly, worried her. Before she knew what she was doing, Sahira slowly walked around the desk and pulled Henrik into a tight embrace. How long they sat there for, she didn't know, but she did know one thing for certain: she would do everything she could to help, and she didn't know or care what that would take from her…

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><p><strong>Hope it was OK!<strong>

**Please review and let us know what you think!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**


	3. Confirmations

**A/N: Hey! Here's the third chapter, and for some reason, it's ended up a fair bit longer than the others!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p>The weeks passed slowly for Sahira, and a part of it was because of the fact that she knew there was something wrong with Henrik. Given that he had allowed her to embrace him for so long the other night, he must be absolutely terrified of whatever he thought this thing was. If he was not, he would have thrown her away from him for even attempting to touch him.<p>

Then there was what was going on at home. Her children were both frightened and, though they said nothing, they were scared of what was going to happen to their mother. Scared of how far their father might actually go when he was drunk, scared of what they would be forced to witness if Sahira could not get them out of the room in time. She walked outside for a moment, the bitter winter wind meeting her and blowing across her face.

This, all of it, was utterly wrong. Why did Henrik have to be so sick? Yes, yes, yes, he could be a little more respectful and less snide towards some people at times, but what had he really done to deserve the turmoil she knew this was causing him?

After a few minutes, she went back up to Darwin to find Greg and Jac bickering as usual. Both were about to go off duty for the evening, but still the pair argued over something they wouldn't have to deal with until morning. Sahira smiled just a little; at least there was _something_ that would never change.

She made her way to the man who had got a fence post stuck in his chest. He was stable but unconscious and all of his stats were normal, but that thing needed to come out. The problem was that the post was too close to the liver to be removed without her hearing the point of view of a general surgeon. Michael and Malick were far too busy to take another case on and the other GS's were either too preoccupied or too busy to care. This left the one person who, right now, did not trust his own hands.

Once again, she found herself knocking on Henrik's office door. She heard him telling her to come in, although it was a strained sound, as if he was trying to appear as if he was not tired when he actually felt incredibly run down. And, if she was honest with herself, he didn't look great at all. In actual fact, the dark shadows under his eyes shocked her, and his normally pale skin had taken on a strange almost grey tinge. This explained to her why he had confined himself to his office all day; he didn't want anyone to see him looking so sick.

"Did you sleep last night, Henrik?" she asked him solemnly, still staring at the darkened skin under his eyes. She could tell from the look on his face that he hadn't, and that the same was probably true for the night before last, and the one before that.

Henrik gave her a tiny smile, one that showed how much he actually did appreciate her having his back like she did. He took in her appearance as she stood before him. She didn't look so great herself. She also looked tired, and he was sure there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes. The thing was, while he knew she was scared for him, he also saw another, stronger, more crippling fear there. One that told him she was hiding something from him. She stood in her green scrubs with her hair tied back in a pony tail, and yet there was something different about her appearance.

It was only when she moved her arm to check her watch that he realised what it was. "You're wearing full length sleeves under your scrubs," he observed. Her head snapped up at this.

"It's winter, Henrik. It's too cold to be walking around in just scrubs," she replied. He could see her shifting her weight on her feet uncomfortably.

"The hospital is perfectly warm, and you have a sweater and coat if you want to go outside," he challenged her. It was his turn to be suspicious of what came out of her mouth. She had never, in over sixteen years, worn a long sleeve shirt under her scrubs. He got out of his chair and lifted her left arm. His shaky hands were still strong enough that she could not effectively take her arms away from his grasp. Gently, he pushed her sleeve up. He felt his stomach turn when he saw what she was hiding.

"Tell me your husband did not do this to you," he demanded, his voice coming out in an angry whisper. She looked down at her bruises and then up to his face. He was horrified, and she just couldn't tell him what he wanted to hear. She couldn't deny what he so cynically assumed. Her husband had last night, in his drunken anger, grabbed her by the arms so tightly that there were now purplish bruises in the shape of fingers around her small arm. That anger, however, was _nothing _compared to what she saw in Henrik's face right now. She had never seen his temper rise so quickly. If she didn't know him so well that she knew he would never lay a finger on her, she might actually have been scared of him.

He walked away from her to the window and stared out of it for a second, calming that part of him that wanted to find her husband and make him sorry for what he was doing. "This isn't the first time he has hit you, is it?" he asked her, in a silently deadly tone. He turned to face her, his already unsteady hands shaking even more in his rage. It was the only real sign he showed of it, but he was ready to lose his temper.

Sahira closed her eyes. This was not happening. She was not going to make things any harder for him. He was ill, that much she was certain of. She figured he must have whatever his mother died of when he was a child, because he seemed to already be sure of what was wrong. It had seemed like the blood test was merely a confirmation. He was worried enough about his own health as it was; he did not need the troubles of his naïve little protégée to get in his way as well.

"It's nothing, Henrik, really. I'm dealing with it. I'm hoping to leave with the children by the end of the month. I'm just waiting to see what the landlord of the flat I'm interested in says," she explained, hoping to put him at ease. The part about the landlord and the flat was a lie. She did fully intend to leave in the next three weeks, but she had no idea where she was meant to go or what she was expected to do.

"Stay with me," he offered desperately. "If it gets you and your children out of his reach, come and stay with me." Sahira was shocked into silence. Did he actually just _invite_ her and the children to stay with him?

Henrik gazed out the window, dealing with his thoughts and his fears. Though he needed to know that Sahira and the children were safe, he was also scared of what was to come for himself. He had seen someone he loved dearly die slowly and painfully through this. His cousins had committed suicide eight years before just to avoid the pain they would have to endure. That terrified him. But if Sahira was there, would that just make it that little bit easier? To know that she would always care for him?

Sahira thought on the offer for a moment. It was very kind, and she could see the sincerity of it in his eyes. Would it not be easier to take the children to stay with him? He had nothing against her children, though he often joked that they cluttered her clear career path. In fact, she knew he had a strange way with children. He was more at ease with them than he was with adults.

Her attention was diverted, however, before she could fully make her mind up. A large white envelope that lay open on the desk caught her eye. She had seen such an envelope many times in her career, and she knew therefore that they generally contained test results. It had been a fortnight since that day she had walked in on him taking a sample of his own blood.

Silently, as she checked that he wasn't watching her, she picked up the envelope. She slowly and quietly pulled the single piece of paper out, and she was horrified by what she read. This was not happening. She desperately tried to make herself believe that, but she could not deny the words there on the paper, in black and white. "Henrik," she said quietly. He turned and faced her, knowing what she had done. He honestly did not care about that at the present moment. So, she knew what was going on with him. She was going to find out sooner or later anyway.

The second utterance of his name was a fearful, broken, tearful whisper that it pained him to hear. "Henrik..." she forced out. She stood directly in front of him, her eyes asking him to tell her it was a lie, a sick joke. But he couldn't. That was the worst thing about it: it was frighteningly, unbelievably, unavoidably true.

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><p><strong>Hope it was alright!<strong>

**Please leave a review and let us know what you think of it!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**


	4. Chaos

**A/N: So, this is Chapter 4...gets a bit violent. Just thought maybe we ought to warn you.**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p>Just as Henrik looked like he was about to reply to her concern, there was an almighty thud as the door was thrown open. "Sorry," Greg Douglas' nervous and frankly worried voice came with his appearance at the Director of Surgery's door. "He said that he had to see you; he wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop-"<p>

"What are you doing here Sahira?" shouted her drunken husband. He staggered a bit, but he was just sober enough to be angry. Furious. He had worked himself up to an almighty state, and there was no talking him out of it now.

"I work here. More to the point, exactly what do you think you're doing, coming to my work and attempting to terrorise me?" relayed Sahira. A moment later, her husband mad a sharp lunge at her and she felt a jeering pain in her stomach that knocked the breath out of her. She doubled over with the pain and shortly after felt Hanssen's unsteady but still reassuringly strong hands holding her up.

It wasn't long afterwards that she heard a sharp voice tinged with malice, that she knew all too well belonged to Jac Naylor, begin to round off what sounded like the beginnings of a lecture, before stopping in her tracks. She had came into and looked around the room before settling with, "I found these in the car park. I think they belong to you, but by the looks of it you're otherwise preoccupied. I think it would be best if I looked after them, don't you?"

_Excellent_, thought Sahira and Henrik simultaneously. Not only did they have Sahira's husband and two children in the office, but they now had Jac and her snide remarks to deal with on top of this. But to the surprise of both of them, Jac grasped both of the children by the hands, turned on her heel and stalked off towards the direction of Darwin ward with both of the children in tow.

In the momentary shock that Jac had caused, Sahira's husband once again swung round to take a swing at Sahira but was thrown back by an absolutely fuming Henrik.

"Don't you dare come anywhere near her ever again," he said in a low, threatening voice. Sahira's husband then took yet another move to try and get past Henrik to Sahira, but he was thrown back against that wall in an instant with an outraged Henrik body-blocking and pinning him against the wall, preventing him from moving. For the second time in the month, Henrik had not only surprised Sahira, but also himself. His shaking hands held his arms firmly to the wall with such force that Sahira's husband began to still slightly and started to stop resenting Henrik's firm grasp. He continued, "Because if you do come near her or the children ever again, believe me, you will regret it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," came the slurred response if Sahira's husband. Sahira saw that Hanssen was resisting the urge to punch her husband and, to be honest, she was at that point where she wouldn't have minded all that much if the man she married walked out of this office with a broken nose. Or a broken jaw.

"Then," said Henrik, "you will get out of my office and my hospital and not come back, alright?" this was followed with the release of the man in Henrik's grasp as he was shoved out of the office door.

After what seemed like hours Henrik turned to face Greg Douglas, fixing him with his icy stare. "I would appreciate it if this," he gestured around the office, "was kept here and didn't spread out onto the ward. I'm sure I speak for both myself and Sahira when I say that the amount of gossip that the people working in this place come up with is not only frustrating, but ineffectual and petty too."

"Yes- OK- fine- I will" stuttered Greg as he hastily made his way towards the glossy door of the office.

The silence that followed was deafening. Neither spoke yet both was thinking exactly the same thing, each turning over the events of the last ten minutes slowly in their heads, each analysing every word said, trying to make sense of it all. Sahira was still stunned at exactly how much Henrik seemingly cared for her. He had put himself between her and her drunk, aggressive, violent husband and could have easily been hurt. Deep down she already knew that Henrik would do just about anything for her, and would never even dream of letting anyone hurt her. Henrik was stunned himself. Not only had he just invited Sahira and both of her children to move in with him, but he had openly expressed just how much he was prepared to do for Sahira in front of none other than Jac Naylor and Greg Douglas. These were two things he thought that he would never do.

He looked up to find Sahira's beautiful dark eyes studying him, looking at every single inch of his body before she eventually found his eyes. " Are you hurt?" he asked her whilst standing exactly where he was but with a level of concern rising in his voice.

"I'm fine. He just knocked the wind out of me, that's all." She replied still staring directly at him and not for one second dropping her gaze. "Are you OK?" she relayed back with genuine concern thick in her voice.

"I'm fine, too," he said, still slightly bemused as to what had just happened. Had he really just thrown a man against a wall, in front of his CT consultant and one of her registrars?

"Henrik…do you honestly believe that you're fine? After all, we both know from looking at those test results that you're far from it," she quizzed his once again, looking him up and down before she did so. After waiting for a reply with no avail Sahira asked, "Was this what your mother died of when you were a child?" Again no reply came and so Sahira gave up and began to walk towards the office door.

"Don't go," came Henrik's shaky voice. "Yes, this is what my mother di- what my mother had. And no, I know that I'm obviously not fine, but there we go life goes on."

"Henrik Hanssen. Don't you dare try that matter of fact sort of sarcasm with me. I've known you far too long to be drawn in by any of it. Understand?" she asked him. He looked down, away from her eyes, so she could not see the fear in them. When he looked up again, he, for all he tried, could not take his eyes away from hers.

"Yes, yes, I do. And it wasn't just my mother that had the disease. My grandmother, my mother and two of my cousins all got it and it killed them all." He trailed off and for one he was the one to break the eye contact between the two.

"Are you scared?" she queried. What a stupid question, she silently berated herself. Of course he was scared. Well, any normal person would be, at least. But then, most people didn't classify Henrik Hanssen under the category of "normal."

"Well I'm barley going to be ecstatic, but at least it's manageable…isn't it?" he half asked half stated at her.

"Yes, Henrik you know that Huntington's disease is perfectly manageable. You'll be fine, believe me." She assured both him and herself. It was not entirely true, of course. There would be a point, sometime in the coming years, when drugs would not have the power to control the symptoms anymore. At some point, she would look at him and see that he couldn't run. Couldn't walk. Couldn't speak. Couldn't _think_.

"I'll be fine until I'm not fine anymore," he replied with a sad, regretful smile. He had seen this disease at work. He had watched it kill. He had watched it drive people to suicide, just so they wouldn't have to go through the pain they had witnessed in someone else.

"And about earlier. I would like, I would love, to move in with you. If it's OK with you, of course," she added on the end, remembering that her husband's display of idiocy may well have put him off the idea. He knew as well as she did that this

"Sahira, you know that's fine. I would actually like that. You're welcome to move in any time. Tonight, even, if you wanted?" he rushed out. "Sorry," he said hastily, "I'm babbling again, aren't I?" He took a breathe and resumed more calmly. "It's just that, especially after what just happened, I don't like the thought of you and the children spending another minute in the same house as him."

"Henrik. You know I don't mind what you say or how you say it. I hang on to your every word."

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><p><strong>Hope it was alright!<strong>

**Please leave a review and let us know what you think of it!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**


	5. Hitting Home

**A/N: Sorry for not posting this. Could have sworn I did though! Oooops!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p>"Eddi, we need a GS consultant," Sacha decided, taking in the two sisters in front of him. One, the youngest, was perfectly fine, but the other had a badly ruptured spleen due to a rather nasty fall down three flights of stairs. "Right," he said as he pondered to himself before finally coming to a decision. "Eddi call Mr. Hanssen, please." she nodded and half-jogged to the phone at the nurses' station.<p>

It was after only a few minutes that the Swedish consultant arrived on AAU, and the little colour that he had drained from his face at the sight that greeted him. After spending a minute to gather his composure he strode over to join Sacha and Eddi. He was mildly aware of noise around him then of something that he assumed to be the patient's medical records being thrust into his hands but, try as he might Henrik could see the woman's shaky hands and jerky limbs, her head twitching randomly. "This is Shayna Drew, and her sister Caitlin," Sacha introduced them. "And this is Mr. Hanssen. He's the Director of Surgery here at Holby."

Henrik nodded as he took the notes from Sacha. He was right. Brilliant. He had known about his own situation barely twenty-four hours, and already he was forced to stare his future in the face. This woman, the notes stated, suffered from Huntington's disease. At the young age of just thirty-one, she was trembling and twitching, often unable to make sense of things, with poor coordination, which was probably what caused the fall that damaged her spleen so badly.

He watched as the younger of the two sisters, Caitlin, placed a hand on Shayna's. Shayna threw it from her, glaring at her little sister. "Get away from me. Go on, get lost," she snarled. "You don't want to be here, so why don't you just go to hell?"

Henrik sighed inwardly as Caitlin's hazel eyes filled with tears. They reminded him of how Sahira's beautiful dark eyes had looked when she had found out…Caitlin pushed her thick, honey curls from her face, picked up her bag and gave her one last look before walking away. Eddi went to go after her, but Hanssen stopped her. "I'll deal with it," Hanssen said to her quietly, pulling her back gently towards Sacha and Shayna. He then followed after her, and found that she hadn't got out of the ward before she had broken down in tears. She sat on the floor, opposite the nurses' station, weeping into her hands. She had probably taken that sort of treatment for a while now, and it seemed that this was what had finally cut it, what finally got the better of her.

Chrissie had seen Caitlin fall to the floor in tears and was about to go and comfort her before Henrik signalled, in the politest way possible, to resume work and let him deal with her. He put out his trembling hand out and shook his head, before going to stand in front of Caitlin's crouched form. He looked down on her and realised that, as a child, he had been in exactly the same position – leaning against a wall with his head in his hands, crying his eyes dry – many times before.

Hanssen sat down next to her and pulled her hands away from her face. "She h-hates me," Caitlin sobbed. "Maybe it's because she's g-got it and I haven't..." she trailed off. Henrik shook his head sadly. He knew exactly how Caitlin felt about this, and he had been a seven-year-old child when his aunt finally took it upon herself to explain why his mother shrieked at him for the slightest mistake, why she bawled at him in front of his friends. That she didn't mean a word of it.

"She doesn't hate you," he contradicted her gently. "It's the disease. It sounds like a cliché, I know, but it's the truth." He felt a stab of empathy towards her. He understood why she would believe that Shayna hated her.

"I know that, I guess," Caitlin agreed with a heavy sigh. "We went through the same thing with Mum. I remember when I was fifteen, I tried to run off. Shayna came running after me and told me that Mum loved us. She told me she couldn't help it. It took a while, but I did accept that." She looked up at Hanssen's face. He seemed tired, and she saw his hands trembling slightly. "She's just so horrible sometimes that I wonder what she actually feels for me."

"Caitlin, listen to me," ordered Henrik sternly. "Shayna loves you. I know how it feels, and you will always doubt whether or not she does when she lashes out, but she honestly does love you."

"And how would you know?" Caitlin returned with a sad smile.

"Because my mother… because my mother died of the disease herself when I was nine years old," he answered her frankly. "I thought she absolutely despised me. It was only when she screamed at me on my seventh birthday that her sister explained to me that she didn't hate me like I thought she did." He heaved a sigh. So that was what Sahira had to look forward to, was it? Listening to him hurl abuse at her, making her think that he detested her?

He put his strong arm around the woman's shoulders, pulling her closer to him. It was unusual for him to do so, but he had felt the same pain as she did, and he knew how agonising it was to doubt how your closest family felt you. He could feel her sobbing against his chest, her head resting jut under his chin as tried to cling to some kind of comfort from someone who truly understood what she felt. "How do you know you don't have it?" he asked her gently.

"Shayna and I made a pact when I was eleven and we knew Mum really was going to die from this," she began. "We decided that, as soon as I turned sixteen, we would both get tested. She was nineteen by then, and Mum was at the stage where she couldn't do anything for herself anymore." She noticed his shaking hands again and it occurred to her that maybe he was ill with the same disease as he big sister. "You have it, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied. "I have it. Just like my mother before me and her mother before her." He pushed Caitlin up gently until her back was straight. He helped her to her feet and she looked up at him with a kind of gratefulness he was not accustomed to. Something he had only really seen in Sahira's eyes before. "Do you forgive Shayna?" he asked her softly.

"Of course I do," she replied with a sad laugh. "How can I not?" Hanssen nodded and guided her back to her sister, back to the surprised faces of Sacha and Eddi. Caitlin sat in the chair next to her big sister's bed.

"I'm sorry," Shayna mumbled, looking at Caitlin's tear stained face. "I didn't mean to."

"I know that, Shayna. I know," Caitlin replied, kissing Shayna's head. Sacha smiled with Eddi, but Henrik could not force his face to join them. He knew that, whatever he said to Sahira when he got to this stage, she would always forgive him. Like Caitlin had pointed out to him, how could she not?

Henrik then went back into his Director of Surgery mode, explaining that, while he was allowing Mr. Levy to perform this procedure, he would be the supervising consultant. That she would be perfectly fine once the splenectomy was completed. He bade the four of them goodbye and headed to the exit.

He walked straight into Chrissie Williams, who gave him a look of concern. "Are you alright, Mr. Hanssen?" she asked him. "You look a bit pale," she commented.

_Nothing to do with the fact I just stared my future in the face_, he retorted sarcastically in his head. He could not help letting it show, just a little. There was, after all, only so much that one could keep hidden from the rest of the world. And considering that he had just found out he had Huntington's disease, _and _that the person closest to him was the victim of repeated violence, he thought he was doing rather well.

"I'm fine," he finally answered her. She looked his face over again, this time taking in the dark marks under his eyes, the strange greyness of his skin, and the general exhausted look about him. It was clear to her that this was a man who was not fine. This was a man who was pretending there was nothing wrong when nothing was right.

"You dealt with Caitlin Drew very well," she told him, turning to look at the sisters from the corner of the ward. Shayna was twitching and jerking while Caitlin gripped her hand tightly, and appeared to be singing a song quietly to calm Shayna. "I don't know if I would cope if I was in her position."

"I'm sure you would," he assured her in a rare moment of mildness. "You might get angry once in a while, but then you would remember that they can't help what they say. You would always forgive them, because you know it's always the disease." He gazed at Shayna; she reminded him of what his mother was like when he was little. Like Shayna, she twitched and shook and jerked her limbs involuntarily, and she screamed at him out of the blue, sometimes terrifying him. "It was always the disease," he said sadly to himself.

As he walked away from Chrissie, heard Sacha approach her and ask her, "Is he OK?"

He very distantly heard her reply of, "I don't think so. He looks so _tired_."

To be honest, Henrik couldn't care less about what the others thought they knew. After all, this was the hospital where everyone gossiped about everyone else, rarely getting the facts right. He did care, however, about what Sahira would have to face; that is, if she was still serious about living with him. Henrik smiled outwardly as he recalled the look of shear shock in Sahira's eyes when it had accidentally slipped out that he wanted her to move in.

Still though, he couldn't shake the feeling that if even Chrissie Williams, who he only saw about three times a week, had noticed his decline, then it wouldn't be long until others would start to query, until questions would soon have to be answered. He had,though, found a kind of hope and a kind of sanctuary in these times. He had found a thing that seemed to make the whole world seem better, someone to make everything seem alright. And he had found it in Sahira.

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	6. The Unknown

**A/N: OK...sorry for the long wait. Combination of dramas, no power and no internet sort of hinders writing and uploading :(**

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><p>"Crèche, crèche, please be open!" begged Sahira, dashing through the glass set of double doors opening to Holby. "Hold the lift!" she cried as she struggled with Indie's buggy and clung on to her daughters' hand. It was no less than five minutes later that Sahira said goodbye to the children, changed into her scrubs and darted onto Darwin Ward. Sahira made a beeline towards the surgery board which gave her the unfortunate news that she was already quarter of an hour late for a procedure in Darwin one with Henrik.<p>

"You'd better get going," came the Irish utterance of Greg Douglas from behind her. "You don't want to be late for a chance to shine in front of the Swede himself now, do you?"

"Greg Douglas, will you please shut up and stop sneaking up on me like that!" she surprised him by saying, whipping round to face him. "And another thing, you should watch what you say about others. Karma comes back around after all." She stormed off in the opposite direction and with a turn of a corner she was gone.

"What was that all about?" Jac queried as she too checked today's list.

"I don't know," the reply came back, "all I did was joke about Hanssen and she went off on one." The baffled Greg then slowly walked off in the direction of x-rays and continues with his shift.

To Jac, this information came as a surprise. She had never particularly liked Sahira nor had she made any real attempt to get to know her but ever since Sahira had worked here Jac had only ever heard her shout once and even then it was over a _personal matter _with Hanssen. It was for this reason that she decided something was wrong and as she moved to treat a patient in bay four, made a pact with herself to find out what it was.

"Henrik," hissed Sahira as she rounded the doors to theatre. "What on earth do you think you're doing in theatre, you're down to lead, for God's sake, and you can't even keep your hands from shaking. How are you planning on fixing this man's lung if in actual fact you will probably do more harm than good?" she trailed off before looking up to fully take in the man stood before her. He looked worse than last time. His skin looked almost white in the bright lights of the theatre and his eyes seemed to have shrunken back into his skull. Not only this but his witty comments and sarcastic remarks had all but ceased and the constant trembling of his hands remained. This, she told herself, was not a man that needed to be lectured however stupid he may have been. "Sorry," she mumbled "I, I didn't think, I-"

"Alright, Miss Shah, thank you for making your opinions known. However, if you had looked properly at the surgery board, you would see that it is you that will be leading; I am merely here to oversee this procedure." With that he began to walk slowly over to the table. Despite Sahira's constant attempts to apologize and Henrik telling her that it was fine, Sahira still felt a tense atmosphere in the room. It was like she was standing on a knife edge. Never quite knowing when she might fall, never quite knowing when her friend's temper may snap. In addition to this, nothing much more was said in theatre and an uneasy silence was draped over the room. This state lasted until about Sahira and Henrik were scrubbing out. "I will see you in your office in ten minutes, understand Henrik?" asked Sahira tentatively.

It was strange, she thought, that their roles were somewhat reversed and it didn't feel right. It was like the illness had completely left him incapable, like he now needed her to look after and watch over him, not the other way round. Still mulling over her thoughts she walked off and straight into the unexpecting body of Jac.

"Oh, will you look where you're going, Sahira!" snapped Jac as she began to tidy the large pile of paperwork at her feet. Sahira was conscious of Jac staring at her unusually and she knew at once that she had spotted the bruises on her arms where her husband had hit her, from when she told him that she and the kids were leaving. She hastily pulled down her long sleeves and, at that moment, the tall figure of Henrik Hanssen loomed out of the theatre doors. Even Jac, paying barely any attention, could see that Hanssen wasn't in a good way. He was pale and shaking, and when she opened her mouth to comment, she was shot daggers by Sahira. This silenced her and, for the second time in forty-eight hours, she found herself in what seemed to be like a very deep and complicated situation involving Sahira and Henrik.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" he asked in a voice that sounded weak as well as tiered.

"No, Henrik," replied Sahira, "I just bumped into Ms Naylor, that's all." With a curt nod he stalked off and entered the lift. Once he was out of ear shot, Jac pounced on Sahira with questions enough to make anyone's head spin.

After a minute of incoherent babbling, Jac steadied herself and asked, "Who gave you those bruises, what was all that about and why on earth did you look at me like that?"

"It's nothing Jac. I've got to go somewhere now; cover for me." Following this remark, Sahira darted away, not once looking back. She opted to take the stairs. This way, she would have more time to think about exactly what it was she was planning on saying. It felt as if no time at all had passed when she reached the doors she knew so well, but something stopped her from entering. It was as if she was intruding somehow, like she was meddling and prying deep into Henrik's private life. He had never opened up to her as much as he had done in the past few weeks, than he had in all her time of knowing him, and she knew that if she wasn't careful with what she said and how she acted, he may clam up again and go back to not letting her in. This was certainly not what she wanted nor what he needed to happen.

"Were you planning on entering my office any time soon or will I have to wrestle you to get past?" a voice from behind her asked. With that the pair made their way through the glossy hospital doors and entered the office.

Henrik opened his mouth to say something but Sahira interjected before he had the chance. "Henrik, I firstly want to apologise for what I said in theatre this morning. I was not only completely of order, but also I jumped to conclusions and I was wrong. For this, I'm sorry and I want you to know that I meant nothing of what I said. Clear?" she asked him looking up to stare deep into his tired eyes.

"Yes, fine, clear." he replied looking like a rabbit that had been caught in the headlights.

"Sorry" said Sahira softly. "I didn't mean to lecture." Again as Henrik looked into Sahira's dark eyes he saw that she truly meant all that she had said and, for the hundredth time today, he thought how lucky he was to have her as his friend, let alone having her move in with him. He had obviously been admiring her for slightly longer than he had thought because Sahira shook his arm and asked with genuine concern in her voice, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," he replied, "I was just thinking, that's all."

"Right," she said with a regained sense of optimism in her voice. "Shall we go then?" Thoughts were instantly racing round Henrik's head; go where, with who, to do what? Sahira obviously sensed his confusion as she continued, "To your house. Its Tuesday, Henrik, the day that we agreed that the children and I should move in, remember?" This...forgetfulness...was another thing that worried her. At times, he seemed so confused, so out of it. Ordinarily, he would never forget a thing as big as this. "If it's too soon then we can always wait." She said, "We don't mind; if you think we should wait then-"

"No, no, it's fine. It just...slipped my mind," he admitted. He went on to tell her, very sternly, "If you think I am going to allow you and two defenceless young children to live in a place where your husband is more than willing to use violence against you, you can think again!" he said, his voice rising with the frustration he felt. Sahira put her hands on his chest to calm him down a bit. This was another problem. His temper rose so fast now, especially when he got frustrated.

"OK, Henrik, calm down," she told him gently. "It was only a suggestion." She watched as his eyes softened a little again. He was calm now, thankfully. "Now, shall we go and pick the kids up from the crèche?"

He nodded and picked up his laptop and briefcase. Sahira shook her head disbelievingly at him. He was ill, he was going to have to adjust to having her and two very young children around, and he wanted to _work_.

"I don't think so," Sahira stated. From past experiences, Sahira knew that, to Henrik, his laptop meant work, and there was no way she would let him sit there half the night tapping away on the keys and not paying the blindest attention to anyone else. "Laptop can stay here. I promise it won't mind. In fact, it might like the break," she joked. She saw a glimmer of amusement very briefly flash across his eyes. She grabbed her coat and his arm and pulled him out of the doors.

Fifteen minutes and several strange looks later ,the four people were walking close together across the car park and over to the car. Unbeknown to Henrik and Sahira, Jac had been watching all day. She still didn't particularly like Sahira, but underneath her heart of stone lay someone who really cared and worried about anyone who wasn't being treated right, and those bruises on Sahira's arm weren't everyday scrapes. Also, had she not seen her crying in the staffroom one day? When she had asked what was wrong all, Sahira had said was that she was alright and that she was just going to see Hanssen. When she thought about it, Jac realised that Sahira had shown many signs of being abused. Jac suspected that it was her husband and swore at herself for being so stupid. How could she not have seen? She made a mental note to talk with Sahira, at the first chance she got, and find out precisely what was going on.

"Are you alright.?" Henrik asked Sahira as the car began to slowly drive away. He was still able to drive, for now. He was well aware that he would need to take medication to control the tremors and involuntary twitching. With those drugs, he might even be able to be a capable surgeon for a little while longer.

"Yes, I'm absolutely fine," she said with a smile, and with a look of happiness on her face continued. "It feel like we're safe when we're with you, like you won't let him touch us," she confessed. She knew that wasn't entirely true, but she still felt better with him there. There would be a time, though, that her husband would remember where Henrik lived. Where his wife and children were hiding from him. Then, then it would a question of outsmarting him.

"I won't let him near you," he vowed. He could see very easily the worry in her face. He could tell that she knew that her husband was more unhinged than she wanted to believe.

She gave a soft, humourless laugh. "You don't know him like I know him," she said, with a sadness and fear in her eyes that Henrik hated to see. "If he has to go through you to get at me, he will." She knew this already, but saying it aloud made it feel like it was inevitable. That it just had to happen and there was no way around it. And, truthfully, there really _was_ no way around her husband's behaviour.

With that, she reached over and tentatively rested her hand on top of Henrik's arm. This took him by surprise, but after regaining his composure, he gave her a smile that he put all his effort into making reassuring. He wasn't blind to the facts of the matter, though. They might be content here, but when he came call, and they both knew he would, content would be at the bottom of their list of emotions. Fear would be top of both of their lists, followed closely by anger and hatred, in Henrik's case.

He drove away with mixed emotions about the situation. Happy that Sahira was staying with him, that she and her children were no longer in immediate danger, but sad that she would have to see how ill he actually appeared at times. Confident that he could keep the three of them safe, but also fearful of the unknown, of what was to come from the man who had already caused havoc at the hospital. Not to mention the dread he felt for what he knew this disease was going to do to him at some point. But he knew he could control the shaking, and possibly the moods swings. For how long, though, he was unsure. His mother's deterioration had been rapid, but his grandmother's condition progressed slowly, and she was almost fully functional for many years. So, that was another unknown he, they, faced.

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><p><strong>Hope it was alright!<strong>

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	7. Consultants, Registrars and Nurses

__**A/N: This is Chapter 7, and it's sort of Jac showing she cares in her slightly odd way...**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p><em>Meeting in Cardiothoracic Consultant's office at 1pm. Would all staff listed please attend:<em>

_Sacha Levy  
><em>_Luc Hemingway  
><em>_Michael Spence  
><em>_Frieda Petrenko  
><em>_Elliot Hope  
><em>_Ric Griffin  
><em>_Chrissie Williams  
><em>_Eddi McKee  
><em>_Oliver Valentine  
><em>_Greg Douglas  
><em>_Antoine Malick_

_Thank you,_

_Jac Naylor._

"What's going on, Sacha?" Eddi asked the doctor as the both stared at their computer screens. "Jac Naylor wants just about every doctor and nurse in her office by one o'clock! She's probably already shifted surgical lists around so it can happen! And what's happened to Hanssen and Sahira Shah? Unless it's..." she trailed off. Unless of course it was about one of them. Or both of them.

"What is that?" Frieda asked from behind Sacha. "And why is my name on it?" she added after catching a glimpse of her Ukrainian name against the others. Then she saw Jac's name at the end of the email. "What is she up to?"

"I don't know, but make sure Chrissie knows, will you?" he requested of Frieda.

"Of course. Now," she began. "Man in bed three says he is dying of pain. In groin. Care to take a look?"

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><p>It was one o'clock, and the consultant's office on Darwin was at bursting point. There were ten doctors and two nurses, all here to discuss one thing. Jac scribbled on the whiteboard, saying the words as she wrote them down. "Shaking, Mood swings, Bad coordination, Chorea, Fatigue, Memory loss and in particular the loss of the train of thought and the inability to remember words. Any suggestions?" she asked as she turned back to a room full of puzzled faces.<p>

"It could be any one of a hundred things, Jac," Michael pointed out. "Who is this about, anyway? Are they a patient?" he demanded.

"No. No, he isn't a patient. But he will be if we don't figure this out and get him some treatment!" she snapped.

"Jac, who are you talking about?" Elliot asked, in a gentler and less threatening tone. Jac looked at Greg, the only one who had seen what had happened, the only one who knew exactly what she was talking about. Then, it dawned on two of the people. A doctor and a nurse looked at each other, both remembering the shaking of his hands when he took the file.

Sacha and Eddi said, at exactly the same time and with a dismayed tone just one word, "Hanssen." They had both noticed the trembling and the reduced coordination. It had worried them, but they eventually dismissed it. "You're talking about Mr. Hanssen," Sacha added with a sigh. "He was on AAU the other day, and his hands were shaking like hell."

"Did it never occur to you, Jac, that maybe, just maybe, he wants to keep this to himself?" Ric demanded. "Didn't dawn on you that maybe he's dealing with this? Or that he already knows what it is? What if it's genetic, and he's watched someone suffer from it? Do you really think he would want that put around the hospital?" he shouted. He had been there. He had been sick. Deadly sick. In fact, if Hanssen hadn't pushed him into an operating theatre and sliced him open, he would be dead right about now.

"Maybe, but without Hanssen, we're all screwed. And, we might moan about him, but you all know that he's been fighting so hard to save this hospital, Darwin ward in particular!" she retorted. "Don't you think we owe him just a little interest in his well-being? He saved your life, Ric," she reminded him, as if he even needed it. "He saved your jobs, Greg, Ollie, Elliot. He might be a sarcastic pain in the arse, but he's ill and we all know it!"

Everyone looked at her in shock. They hadn't seen her so riled about a colleague before, much less the one that challenged her at every turn. "Narcotic abuse? Alcohol withdrawal?" Ric finally offered a suggestion.

"Hanssen's like me," Luc contradicted him. "He doesn't drink, and I don't think he's the type to even go near drugs. What about an acute reaction to stress? He's hardly having the time of his life," he commented.

"No," Jac replied. "It can't be that; Sahira told me that he's turned hospitals around in a worse state than ours."

"Aseptic meningitis," Malick offered. It wasn't a great idea, but it was a possibility. But then, a lot of conditions carried these symptoms with them.

"Parkinson's? Or schizophrenia?" Ollie offered to Jac. He knew that it wasn't good now; he had just gone down the road that pointed to genetic illness or psychological illness. Nobody wanted to believe that he was ill like _that_.

Chrissie leaned back against the wall, realising something. Something she ought to have seen before now. She looked up at the ceiling, hoping to God that she was wrong. _Please, please let me be wrong about this_, she begged in her mind.

Sacha shook Chrissie's arm to bring her back to Earth. "Chrissie, what's wrong?" he asked her softly. She merely looked up at him, not understanding, for a second, at least, what he was saying. The realisation had hit her when Ollie had suggested Parkinson's disease.

"Shayna Drew. Caitlin. Don't you remember, how he went after Caitlin, how unsettled he looked when he left AAU? How pale he was and how tired he looked?" she recalled. She found it unnerving when she saw it. She was used to him being sarcastic and making dry jokes that probably only Luc would get. And yet, she saw him low, she saw him really _sick_, and determined, however futilely, to mask it. "I watched them. I watched him take his guard down to the sister of someone with Huntington's disease."

"He's Swedish," Luc wondered aloud. Everyone looked at him, silently wanting to know why he just pointed the blatantly obvious out to them all. "There's a slightly higher prevalence of Huntington's disease in Sweden than in a lot of countries. Wales and Scotland are the same."

Elliot fell back into his chair. It was obvious now. He was emotionally closed, and kept everyone out. His recent mood swings were not pleasant in the slightest, and he had seen his hands shake, although very briefly.

"Wait," Frieda halted them all. "How do we know we are not blowing this out of proportion?" she asked of them. "We all watched him. How can we know we are not seeing what is not even there?"

"She raises a good point," admitted Malick. "We could just be making it more than it actually is. Maybe we're just thinking that he's changed so drastically when he actually hasn't." He thought on it for a second. "We need someone who hasn't spoken to him in months, to describe the change to them and see what they think."

"Connie," Greg piped up. He pulled out his mobile. He still hadn't deleted her number; he just hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. It actually escaped his notice that it was even there most of the time. He called her number and got the answer he expected.

"Connie Beauchamp," she answered, as frostily as he remembered her.

"Connie," Greg greeted her, not quite as cheerily as he normally would have done if they needed her for another reason.

"Greg," replied Connie, a bit surprised that he was calling on her. "To what do I owe this great pleasure?"

"Well, we sorta have a problem," he confessed to her. To his surprise, she started laughing. "What the hell is so funny?" he snapped at her.

"You actually are calling me because you have a real problem," she realised. She stopped laughing and waited for an explanation. "Well, what is it? The Great Swede isn't wielding his axe again, is he?" she joked.

"No," he answered carefully. "But he is the problem. Well, his health is...we think. We can't be sure though. What was he like the last time you spoke?"

"Well, what is he like now?" she countered curiously. This was odd. She was miles and miles away from them all, and yet they called upon her for advice on a man she hadn't seen in a year. Greg looked at Jac for help. She heaved a sigh and took the phone from him.

"Connie, it's Jac here. We're all holed up in my office, trying to figure this out, and Dr. Petrenko made a valid point: we might be making something out of nothing. So...can you remember how he acted and how he looked when you last saw and spoke to him?"

"He was stubborn, arrogant, sarcastic, rude...would you like me to go on, or do you get the general picture?" she attempted to joke again. "Look, he seemed to be in perfect health. Though, I did wonder if something happened to him that made him so...emotionally closed. But then, there are a lot of people who are just like that. But, physically, he was absolutely fine. Now, what on Earth is going on here?"

Jac hesitated. It seemed like she was right. Frieda's reluctance was optimism. Connie had described the physical health of the Hanssen that Jac only vaguely recalled. "He's sick, Connie. His hands tremble; he has these really bad mood swings, Bad coordination, chorea, bad memory. He forgets what word he's meant to use...we were thinking it might be Huntington's?" she asked.

"'We'? Who is 'we'?" she checked.

"Uhhh..." she trailed off, looking around. "Four consultants, four registrars, an F1, an F2 and two senior nurses," she listed to her old colleague and friend. "Bottom line, I called them all here because I've notice that Hanssen really doesn't seem to be very well at all. You should see him, Connie. He looks dreadful."

"It's not like you to be worried about a colleague," Connie noted. "What is actually going on here? You're worried about Henrik Hanssen being sick, you've hauled half the hospital to your office and I'll bet that Hanssen doesn't have a clue, probably because nobody is stupid enough to say anything."

"It's...complicated," Jac allowed.

"Complicated is just a word people use instead of saying, 'If I tell you, you won't agree, so I'll just tell you it's complicated so that you'll leave it alone,'" Connie said harshly.

"Anyway, do you agree that something isn't right?" Jac persisted. "You agree that he's ill?" There was a long pause as Connie considered it. Yes, he sounded sick to her. Yes, something was far from normal. But, they knew nothing of his medical history, nothing of his family history, nothing of his childhood, and she also knew that he fully intended to keep things that way.

"Yes," she finally sighed. "I think he's unwell. Has he got close to anyone since I left?" she enquired.

"There was a new registrar who came here after you left; they've known each other for sixteen years. And I think she knows what's going on."

"Right. He needs medication to control the tremors, but we can't do a lot about the mood swings except from Anti-depressants, maybe. Do you need me to come and help?" she offered. It was unlike her to go out of her way to help Hanssen, but the fact remained that he was ill and she was a doctor. It was second nature to her now.

"No, no, we'll be fine. We just wanted to check we weren't making a mountain out of a molehill," she assured Connie. "You better get back to work now. I'll maybe speak to you later."

"Alright. Tell me if you find out what it is, would you?" Connie requested. She was genuinely worried now.

"Of course. Bye," Jac said before hanging up. "She agrees with us – there is something wrong. The question is, what?" She looked at Chrissie and Luc. "You two think Huntington's?"

"Think about it," Eddi told everyone. "A kid who is sent here from Sweden so young that he loses his accent probably hasn't had all that great a time. My guess is he was sent to school here when his mum died. What if she died from Huntington's disease? Luc, you say he's like you, that he doesn't drink. For most people, it's either because they're recovering from addiction or because they've watched a relative stagger down that road and don't want to go there themselves. So, if his mum died, possibly from Huntington's, his father dealt with that by hitting the bottle and the Swede was sent here as a kid, it would explain a hell of a lot, wouldn't it?" she pointed out. There was a quiet knock at the door and Jac very hastily wiped the board clean.

Suddenly, the door opened and Sahira stood and looked over them. Bewilderment on her face transformed into suspicion and then resignation. She knew what they were up to; they were trying to figure out what was wrong with Henrik. She wouldn't say anything, though. She could clearly see they were all concerned, whether they liked to admit to it or not. The whole lot of them scattered back to their wards with one glare from Jac. "Sahira," she greeted her colleague. "Sit down. I want to talk to you."

"Whatever it is, Greg did it," she half-joked. She did obey, though and sat down on Elliot's chair. She really was suspicious, especially when Jac didn't start a lecture about some mistake she made ages ago and even more so when she saw the look of sympathy on her face. _Oh, God, _Sahira cringed internally. _What has she figured out?_

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><p><strong><em><em>Hope it was OK!**

**Please review and tell us what you thought!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**


	8. Almost Caught Out

**A/N: We're back! Sorry. In all my rushing around, I forgot to post this chapter, so my apologies.**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**

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><p>After watching, with some regret, practically the rest of the hospital staff battle their way through the small door and out of Jac's office, Sahira slowly turned to face the stone hearted Jac Naylor and stared her straight in the face. "Look, Jac. Whatever it is you're about to tell me, just stop and think for a minute. Firstly, is it to do with something that I did wrong some time last year, and then secondly, is it even remotely related to either Henrik Hanssen or myself? If it is either or indeed both of these two things then I really, really don't want nor need to be here right now. Am I understood?" she concluded abruptly. At further inspection though Jac seemed, for the first time since she had known her, genuinely concerned about whatever it was she was about to ask. It was as if she had no idea either how to put it or how it may be received and that, if possible, she was almost scared of what she was prying into.<p>

Jac held her gaze. She wasn't quite sure what she was going to say and, although Sahira and herself have never seen eye to eye, she didn't want to make this any harder for her than she knew it already must be. Under Sahira's gaze Jac seemed to weaken slightly and she soon lost her hard as nails exterior to reveal what Sahira suspected was the real her, one that was never allowed to show itself or make its presence known. Despite all this though Sahira saw it and just for a moment she thought she saw a hint of genuine sadness in her eyes.

"Look Sahira, I'm honestly not quite sure how to say this, OK? So for that reason and that reason alone, I'm just going to come out with it. Now I know and understand all that you have just said but I can't just ignore something like this when it's staring me right in the face. I am first and foremost a doctor and, as you well know. our job is to treat the sick, not to just ignore them and pretend that everything is fine and dandy just because we can't face the truth." Jac rounded off and she seemed to be getting more and more uncomfortable with the current situation. What if she and the others had completely miss-read the situation, what if Sahira just denied all knowledge of anything being abnormal? What if after all her efforts, she was wrong too? Admittedly she had been wrong before about such things and just blown things out of all proportion but she had never been so sure that there was something going on…somewhere.

"And what is that truth that none of us can bear to face then Jac?" Sahira asked her in a low and defensive tone. Nothing and no-one were going to start spreading rumours and making more assumptions about Henrik if she had anything to do with it. He had been incredibly kind to both her and the children over these past weeks. And for the entire sixteen years of her knowing him. At times, she did question his motives, his reasoning behind all this kindness but when it came down to it all she know for sure was that he cared about her and that her wound never, ever see her or any of her family come to any harm. He had expressed that much to her just weeks before when her husband decided, in his drunken state, to come to the hospital and start throwing both insults and punches in her direction.

"Come on Jac I'm waiting for some kind of explanation. I do think I deserve one, considering that I've just walked in to find very nearly the whole of the hospital staff, besides me and Henrik, in here, plotting away as though you were all in some kind of Mafia meeting. So can you please either let me go and do my job or spit it out before it gags you?" Sahira was becoming incredibly worked up by now, not knowing what information Jac had managed to lay her hands on, and she was finding it harder and harder not to dash out of her office, slam the door and just try to forget all of what had just happened.

"I'm sorry Sahira but I'm really not quite sure how to proceed with this…conversation." Following her last sentence Sahira began to get up as she prepared to leave the office. "Where do you think you're going? I'm not finished yet!" Jac stated to Sahira in an annoyed fashion.

"Well Jac, if you haven't even got the guts to come out with this outright then why should I waste my time here?" With this she threw her a filthy look and started to open the office door.

"Huntington's!" was all Jac had to shout to force Sahira to stop still and turn around to face her. The pained look in Sahira's eyes told her that she was right. "Sahira, why don't you sit down for a minute?" asked Jac in the most caring voice she could muster. This was met by silence and being shot daggers by Sahira which Jac took to mean that she had refused her invitation of a seat. "OK. I called this meeting today, not because I wanted to make gossip, but because I was worried. We all decided that something was wrong, clear?" she asked in her usual manor.

"Crystal," she replied just as fiercely. With this she dashed out of the office and again headed straight up to Henrik's office. Thankfully the lift was empty and in addition to this she managed to get up to the top floor without a problem. When she got there however she found the office to be completely empty. Damn it, this wasn't good. If he were to go wandering into Jac then a confrontation that she knew he would much rather avoid. This worried her to a great extent and as she dashed down the stairs she had one and only one ambition - to find Henrik before he found out what was going on. She turned on her heels and back in the direction of Jac's office.

As he walked down the bustling corridor, Henrik was vaguely aware of several strange looks he was receiving from many of his staff. Queerly, he thought, they all seemed to be shuffling from the general direction of Jac Naylor's office. Last time this had happened she had plotted a scheme to save all cardiothoracic wards at Holby. Under normal circumstances, this would be fine and a relatively easy thing to talk anyone out of. However, when being organised by Jac Naylor, things became a fair bit more complicated as she rarely ever listened to anything else anyone had to say and she was therefore usually wrong when it came to these such matters. In addition to this somewhat worrying thought, he started to slowly make his way over to her office, if for no other reason than to avoid any further problems. Under current circumstances, more things to worry about were simply not an option he was willing to take.

Looking down the corridor he had just come, Elliot and Sacha soon spotted the immediate problem that Hanssen was not heading at an alarming rate towards Jac's office. "Sacha," Elliot whispered as discreetly was he could manage, "Can you, like me, see the problem with Hanssen stalking off towards Jac's office like some kind of man on a mission?" he concluded, still in a very quiet and discreet manor.

"Well," replied Sacha, "I do think that if he were to wander in whilst Jac was trying to pry whatever is going on out of Sahira then yes, it could be a problem. So, yes I do think that it would be a very good idea to go and intercept him quickly and preferably before he gets there first," he replied whilst striding over to meet a slightly confused and highly suspicious Henrik Hanssen.

Elliot then dashed over and intercepted him just as he was about to enter the office. He had never been very good at lying and therefore his very loosely strung reason for his interruption consisted of "Um, Mr. Hanssen can you, um, look at, um, my-my-"

"Our- our case that we are working on at that moment. We have his CT scan back but I, we think that there could be some-some fluid on the lungs. We think that it may be masking something a bit more sinister," he managed to splutter out, rather happy with himself about his quick reason for their interrupting Henrik.

"Mr. Levy, Mr. Hope. You are two of my very experienced staff, do you really need to see me, about something which I, quite frankly, wouldn't expect even an F2 to have a problem with dealing with? So, what is the real reason for everyone acting so highly suspicious, and not to mention doing a rather awful job at trying to hide it? So, are you going to tell me or… am I going to have to find out for myself?" he asked them both, trying to appear though absolutely nothing at all was wrong when really, that was far from the truth.

The two men were both taken aback by Henrik's knowing instantly that something was wrong. "Well, to be honest, Mr. Hanssen we, we thought that maybe-"

"We didn't think anything did we, Elliot?" Jac interrupted quickly as she opened the door and simultaneously shot the pair of them daggers.

"Well if looks could kill, Miss Naylor, then both Mr. Levy and Mr. Hope would be thoroughly dead by now, wouldn't they? So, are you going to tell me the real reason for every one acting so sheepishly?" he asked her. At that moment Sahira stuck her head around the door and, after over hearing the current situation, decided they needed help to get out of the mess they created for themselves. "Miss Shah, I didn't realise that you had a case on AAU today," he queried her. This was yet another thing that Sahira had learned over all her years of knowing Henrik; he never gave up. Part of her knew that it was only because he cared about her, though he rarely ever admitted it, she knew that despite everything, he always would.

"Its fine, Henrik. don't worry." Sahira replied. She knew that he didn't need nor want to know what all the staff had been discussing at least, not for now, in front of the others. She made a decision to herself that she would tell him later, on the way home maybe or in his office. "Jac and I were just discussing a patient. He's got fluid on his lungs, but he also has a weakened mitral valve which could cause some further complications. We were just discussing it, since he was a trauma case you see but I-I thought that I should just get a-a more experienced view on the matter. That's all." She hated lying to him but, in the long run she knew it would save him the embarrassment of having to explain himself in front of Jac, Sacha and Elliot. With that, she brushed past Jac and linked arms with Henrik, much to the surprise of both him and everyone else who was watching.

"Sahira, I'm not sure tha-" Henrik started, but a reassuring look from Sahira made sure he stopped mid sentence.

"Jac, I'm going to need to take the rest of the night off. You know why. I'll see you tomorrow, Sacha, Elliot. Good night." She gave Henrik's hand a reassuring squeeze and pulled him off down the corridor.

"Did anyone have any idea what just happened?" asked Sacha, seemingly as confused as Elliot felt.

"Well," Jac started, "from what I just saw, it looks like Nigella and her hubby just bailed ship!" she concluded and with a quick glance around her she then stalked off, probably to tell the entire ward what she just witnessed, in the general direction of Keller.

Sahira didn't let go of his hand until she had him safely housed in his office, where she knew he would have to sit down and listen to her. Following her and Jac's recent conversation, she didn't want him having any excuses for not listening to her. Once Sahira had firmly shut the glossy door she turned Henrik around to face her, let go of his hand and then looked up to stare into his soft brown eyes. "Oh, Henrik," was all she could manage before breaking into sobs that racked her entire body. She was still seeing red at Jac for prying like she did and yet all she could think of was telling Henrik what had happened, how he would react, how he would feel. She so deeply wished she could somehow make it all better, no matter what it took, but she knew deep down, she couldn't. After another minute of sobbing, she just managed to utter out a small "I'm so sorry." Before, for the second time in what seemed like such a short space of time to her, she put her arms around his skinny frame and hugged him close to her.

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><p><strong>Hope this is OK!<strong>

**Please review and tell us what you think!**

**Sarah and Caja xxxx**


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